


Temper

by Kantrips



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14844044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantrips/pseuds/Kantrips
Summary: This Inquisitor is in a foul mood and it probably isn’t Cullen’s fault. At least, he is pretty sure it isn’t…And it wouldn’t be his place to pry, or to attempt to intervene. Right?





	Temper

The Inquisitor was not happy and was making a very poor effort of hiding it. In fact, it would be more accurate to say she was making absolutely no effort whatsoever to hide it. There were the little things: the slightly creased forehead, the frequent sighs and the impatient shifting from foot to foot.

Then there were the less subtle things like the fact that she had responded to Josephine asking how she was upon arriving at the War Table with: “Can we just get this over with?”

Cullen’s own greeting had died unspoken in his throat immediately.

 He would have ducked for cover under the table long before now if it would not have been entirely cowardly. Besides, he doubted it would have spared him. It had been a long meeting and it had _felt_ at least twice as long thanks to the Inquisitor’s uncharacteristic hostility.

Technically they were getting through the agenda at a very efficient speed but Cullen had missed half of the decisions made and points discussed for being distracted wondering at the Inquisitor’s volatile mood. So far he had spent most of the meeting avoiding eye contact with her and staring intently down at his own notes as if he were trying to translate them from Elvish.

“And the point of this is what precisely?” Evelyn snapped at Josephine.

After a sideways glance at Leliana, Josephine made a courageous attempt to continue, despite Evelyn’s fingers drumming relentlessly atop the War Table.

“That it is crucial that the troops should take this shortcut. Timing is key here: it will save lives.”

“Do it then,” Evelyn answered abruptly and made to leave the room.

“The problem is,” Josephine said quickly and earning herself a sharp look from Evelyn, “that the Arl is an extremely devout man who fears the ire of the chantry if he is seen to be assisting us in any way. Including allowing our men to cross the Bannorn, perhaps even make camp. It is a case of our reputation preceding us, even as far as Ferelden.”

“Some persuasion will be required,” Leliana added, she too receiving a rather unjustified glare for her contribution.

“And we definitely can’t go around?” Evelyn asked.

Cullen cleared his throat. “The terrain is very difficult on either side. It would add several days, if not a week to the journey. By all reports, the villagers may not hold out that long.”

Barely acknowledging him Evelyn tutted as if it was his personal choice to install the mountain ranges there just to vex her. “Then what are you suggesting?” she asked Josephine impatiently.

Josephine inclined her head slightly. “The Arl has suggested that a donation may…alleviate his moral concerns. After all, these are difficult financial times for everyone.”

“No principles before gold. Chuck him a few sovereigns then.”

Evelyn made to leave again but Josephine shook her head and slid a piece of parchment across the table. “This is the amount he has requested, to put his conscience at ease.”

With a look of black murder on her face that made Cullen’s blood run cold, Evelyn methodically shredded the parchment. “Leliana?”

“There were rumours of the Arl courting several young women who are not his wife recently. A man so concerned with the opinion of the chantry would surely dislike to be reminded that we hold proof –”

“And Cullen,” Evelyn said, cutting Leliana short, “let me guess: march into his home with a battalion of troops, find the Arl’s favourite dog and kick it in front of him until he relents?”

“That could not be further from –”

But Evelyn cut him off too. “Do it Leliana, we don’t have that kind of gold to spare,” Evelyn gestured broadly at the shredded paper scattered about the floor.

“Very well Inquisitor. There are a number of other matters about the restoration of Skyhold to discuss,” Josephine said, consulting her list.

“No there aren’t.”

“Actually on the agenda we have –”

“No, that is _it_ for today,” Evelyn hissed and her slightly terrified advisors watched on as she turned on her heel and strode out. No one dared speak until they had heard several of the inner doors slam in the distance, marking her progress away from the War Table.

“That was…unusual,” Josephine said after a deep breath.

“I’ve never seen her in such a temper. I wonder what could be bothering her. Was she like this last night Cullen?”

“Last night?” Cullen asked, recoiling slightly.

“When Evelyn went to speak to you. She was there well over two hours.”

“How do you always… No, she seemed fine.” She had knocked at his door with a simple query about troops movements, which had segued to another question, and another until they were chatting about topics completely irrelevant like books recently read, childhood memories and passionately debating the merits of various cakes. “Tired but fine,” he added when both of the women in the room narrowed their eyes at him suspiciously.

“You didn’t say anything, or do anything that may have…?” Leliana asked.

“As I said: she seemed fine,” Cullen said coldly, resenting the implication that this mood of Evelyn’s was his doing. She had been better than fine actually: in his opinion she had been quite cheerful when they parted. They both had. He was hardly going to tell them that though.

Leliana raised her hands in surrender. “I am at a loss then.” Cullen began to stack his papers together.

“You should go and speak to her,” Josephine said to him in an infuriatingly matter-of-fact manner.

Cullen paused, mid-shuffle. “No.”

“Aren’t you the least bit worried?”

_Of course_ he was worried, but that wasn’t the point. “Why me? Why not you?”

Leliana let out a sigh as if the answer was obvious. What _was_ obvious was that the two women were clearly conspiring against him.

“Because she has a soft spot for you,” Josephine explained gently, as if to a very small child.

“That is just…entirely false…misinformed…how you leapt to that conclusion…”

“Come on,” Leliana urged, ignoring his stuttering protests, “she won’t want to see either of us. It has to be you.”

“I don’t think she wants to see any soul in this realm. I thought she made that very clear,” Cullen argued.

“You’re different,” Josephine offered by way of (severely lacking) explanation.

Cullen pointed towards the door Evelyn had stormed out of minutes before. “Evelyn just accused me of violence against domesticated animals: I was hardly excluded from her wrath. She clearly wants to be alone and I have absolutely no wish to disturb her further.”

“At the very least you would have the best chance of defending yourself should she go on a killing spree.”

“For how long? I wouldn’t assume my survival.”

“Cullen,” Josephine wheedled.

“No.”

“Consider it?”

“It’s a firm no.” He straightened his papers decisively.

“Very well.” Josephine said.

For a moment it seemed to be the end of the matter until Leliana snaked in to deliver a final blow: “I thought you cared about her…but clearly not.”

Cullen coughed, his throat suddenly dry, and scanned the table for his cup only to find it empty. “Naturally, I care in the capacity of a colleague, and about the overarching interests of the Inquisition.”

“The interests of the Inquisition? But you’re happy to leave her in that state. I’m no military expert but I can’t imagine how that kind of emotion will translate on the field. Distracted inattention, impatient outbursts, rash decisions…sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Josephine speculated, counting items off on her fingers.

“So when she comes back run through with a sword we will know who to blame. All because you refused to have a simple conversation with her,” Leliana finished.

Cullen ground his teeth together. “You are determined to make this my fault for some reason. I still don’t understand why it has to be me.” Josephine and Leliana exchanged a long, significant look, eyebrows raised, hints of smiles, that made the contents of his stomach curdle. “Fine. But if I make it worse I refuse to be blamed. Let the record show that I think this is a terrible idea.”

When Cullen knocked on the main door of Evelyn’s quarters, secretly hoping she wouldn’t answer, he heard a distant: “Come in!” He approached cautiously, tread quiet, like he was hunting a dangerous prey. Her back was turned as she leaned over the desk, reading a sheet of parchment there. Suddenly unable to find the words to announce himself, he knocked again, gently on the bannister to declare his presence. “On the table,” she ordered.

“What?”

Evelyn spun about. “Oh, I thought you were…I was waiting on some tea.”

“I see.”

The surprise at his arrival seemed to have shaken the black mood from her for the first time all morning. Not that this was particularly helpful or constructive, as they stood at opposite ends of the room staring at each other until she looked awkwardly down at her boots. “If you’re here to reprimand me for my unprofessionalism I’m not really in the mood.” The hostility was creeping back into her voice, her posture tensing once more. Still avoiding looking at him, she turned back to her desk, folding the parchment she had been examining and sliding it underneath a book.

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” she asked bluntly.

In Cullen’s opinion, that was an excellent question. “I wanted to…I wanted to see if you were alright.” A ridiculous statement: _clearly_ she wasn’t. He tried to quell the urge to pitch himself back down the stairs and run, instead bracing himself for the irritable response he was expecting.

“Oh,” was all she said, so quietly he almost didn’t catch it, making him take a few instinctive steps towards her.

“And are you? Alright?” Pulling teeth, it was like pulling bloody teeth. He would have happily faced an entire legion of demons armed with only a bent spoon at that moment if it meant escaping the suffocating atmosphere of that room. She clearly didn’t want him there. She was gripping the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles were turning white and Cullen wasn’t sure if she using it for support or about to flip it over. “Evelyn.”

Eventually, she spoke again. “Was it that obvious?”

Cullen could have laughed, but he wasn’t that much of a fool. “You don’t…seem yourself,” he said instead, impressing himself with his own tactfulness. But he barely had time to revel in his self-congratulations when he realised that her shoulders were trembling. “Evelyn?” he said, slightly horrified as she let out a shaky sigh.

“Sorry, it’s just I– No, sorry, it’s nothing.”

Having known Evelyn for even this long, it should hardly have surprised him that she was going to put up a fight. She was not the kind of woman who gave up easily, in any respect, and it did not seem she was going to let her guard down willingly now. “Okay,” Cullen said lamely. Evelyn did not respond, and remained facing away from him, not telling him to leave, but hardly offering him any encouragement to persist. “You’re not unwell? Should I fetch…someone?”

“No,” came the sharp answer.

A sudden fear clutched at Cullen’s heart as he remembered Leliana’s accusation, Josephine’s judgemental gaze: _“You didn’t say anything, or do anything that may have…?”_ Had he? Had he done something to upset her? He didn’t think so but he didn’t exactly have the best track record for reading subtleties. “Is it me – was it something I… Have I offended you in some manner?”

At least this finally prompted Evelyn to turn around. “What in Thedas made you think that?”

Cullen couldn’t exactly explain that they had been speculating behind her back so frustratingly, dissolved into guilty stuttering: “Well I…nothing as such but –”

“Of course: I have been vile to you all.”

“No, you haven’t.” It was a brazen lie.

Evelyn gave him a sceptical look. “What then?”

“Combative perhaps,” Cullen said, after an uncomfortably long pause.

He watched on uneasily for her response but she simply shrugged and said: “That’s fair,” and turned back to her desk. Somehow it felt like he was losing more ground than he was making, although at least the anger seemed to have subsided…into something more despondent.  Hardly an improvement, and the only silver lining being that he could safely inform Josephine and Leliana he had been right: he had made it worse. Just as he was considering suggesting he should leave she spoke again: “I got a letter from home.”

“Is everything alright? Your family?”

“All accounted for. Actually, the letter was mostly about how difficult it is to hire a new groomsman, and how the price of butter has risen, and how everyone is wearing celestial blue now and not azure and I should be cautious to note the difference.” Cullen was struggling to make the connection between her temper and the letter thus far. “Oh, and they did mention that my old Nursemaid, Illuna, has passed away. Four months ago, although apparently this event failed to be of sufficient consequence to be worth mentioning sooner. What, with all important fashion news to be conveyed.” She let out a small, terrible laugh. “There I was stupidly wondering why she wasn’t answering my letters.”

Maker help him she was crying. If some magic could have been employed to teleport him anywhere, _anywhere_ else he would have seized upon it. The Hissing Wastes, into the centre of an active volcano, to the bottom of an ocean trench – all seemed preferable options. But he couldn’t leave her. What had he gotten himself into and why hadn’t Josephine come instead?

Illuna: that rang a bell. She had spoken of the woman often and very warmly. He felt terrible for her and didn’t have the faintest clue of how he was supposed to help.

Evelyn remained quietly crying and guilt struck him once more for his selfishness. With everything she had endured was he really recoiling from one moment of distress? It was pathetic of him. Cullen risked moving even closer, until he was standing almost beside her. “I’m sorry; it sounds like she meant a lot to you,” he said in a low voice, so as to not startle her with his sudden nearness. Evelyn said nothing, just sniffed a little as he attempted to strategically administer a (hopefully) comforting pat on the back.

When he made contact, Evelyn turned around to face him so quickly for a mortifying second Cullen thought she was going to shove him away. It was fortunate that he steeled himself from a hasty retreat when she instead wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his chest.

Cullen stood paralysed, his arms outstretched and half raised as if he was in the process of being measured for new armour. “I’m sorry,” Evelyn said, voice muffled, “I know I keep telling myself I can’t afford to be upset but I can’t seem to stop it.”

“You are human; you may have to allow yourself to act like one occasionally,” he rationalised, finally returning the embrace as she stilled a little, shaking subsiding. Cullen chanced a look at the top of her head, but she was keeping her face hidden. A thousand thoughts seemed to race through his mind in a competing flurry of confusing emotions. He thought about stroking her hair, he thought about never wanting to let her go, he thought about titling her head back, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips.

He thought about how he shouldn’t be thinking any of this right now.

Or ever.

“I just hate the thought of people thinking of me as weak,” she said, her voice a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

It was like someone had lit a candle in a dark room and the contents were suddenly bright and blindingly obvious. He knew what she had been doing. It was something Cullen could well relate to: hostility to conceal hurt. “It’s not weakness to care about people. Your empathy is part of what makes you a good leader.”

“Really?” She looked up at him with a kind of wide-eyed, trusting hopefulness that momentarily liquidised his brain.

“Tea, Lady Inquisitor!” came a cry from the passage leading to Evelyn’s room. They moved apart and Evelyn blotted at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Cullen swallowed nervously.

“I’ve got your um…I’ve got it a bit damp I’m afraid,” she said pointing at his chest.

“It’s no matter.”

“I’m sorry about all this,” she said, sounding a bit flustered, waving her hands.

“Really it’s fine.”

“Ah, thank you Nell!” Evelyn said with a brave show of joviality to the young woman who had just entered the room. “Lovely, just on the table please. Could you fetch another cup, Cullen would you…?”

“I already have extra cups Miss. I weren’t sure when you asked if you were expecting company so I put ‘em on the tray. Just in case”

“Clever girl: you always know what I need before I ask.”

 “Which is why I put a plate of lemon tarts on too,” the girl quipped as she curtseyed.

“You’re getting a raise,” Evelyn told her seriously.

“Another one? Since yesterday? Thank you Miss!”

Cullen chuckled as the delighted girl scurried from the room. “You’ll empty our coffers at this rate.”

“She is worth every bit of it I promise you.” Evelyn said, already half way through a lemon tart. “Seems like it was meant to be then Cullen, tea whether you like it or not.”

“I will then. I am not one to argue with fate.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s true.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it…so long as fate wasn’t wrong.”

“There we go,” she said, rolling her eyes at him and letting out a small laugh. It was such a relief, to see her smile again. The mood had shifted drastically and Cullen sensed that weight had been lifted from her shoulders, though he didn’t entirely understand how or why. Evelyn seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Bottling this up was not as sound of a strategy as I thought,” she admitted.

“You shouldn’t need to: ask for a break when you need it.”

She scoffed. “Hypocrite.” Cullen could only shrug in response to that. “Illuna probably would have told me the same thing.”

“Clearly a woman of considerable wisdom.”

“Certainly.” Evelyn smiled faintly. “And how is your family? Have you heard anything from your sister recently?”

“Yes, she is well, they all are. Eager for news as always.”

“Which I’m sure you are reluctant to give, as always.”

“Mia is a born worrier. Sometimes what they don’t know won’t –”

Without warning Leliana’s head popped up over the banister.

“Oh hello, sorry Evelyn, I didn’t expect you to have company. Cullen: what a surprise!” she said, feigning amazement.

“Is it?” Cullen asked through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine Leliana,” Evelyn said, while Cullen stared at the new arrival with resentment and confusion. Leliana gave him her usual, enigmatic smile before turning her gaze to Evelyn.

“I just wanted to check in on you but I see I have been beaten to it.”

Evelyn smiled and hung her head. “I’m myself again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Not at all, I’m just pleased to see you feeling better. I’m sure Josie will be too.”

“Would you like to join us?”

“No no, I shall leave you both in peace. Cullen, you’re always so thoughtful!”

“Apparently,” he answered drily as she left as quietly as she had arrived.

“That was a bit odd,” Evelyn said, though seeming mostly unperturbed and leaning for another tart. “But then I always feel like Leliana is up to some ploy or another.”

“To say the very least. Best not to think on it.”

“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” Evelyn agreed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Good gracious. This took me forever to edit (months) because I was struggling so much with the voices. Hopefully everyone is now at a point of acceptable likeness but I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Was looking at it too long I think! Think need to play the game again. Thanks so much for reading!!!


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